


Moonstone

by fearfrost1211



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, M/M, Mates, Panic Attack, Spark!Stiles, The pack is college age, sterekmates, sterekweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfrost1211/pseuds/fearfrost1211
Summary: Stiles had been home from his freshman year of college exactly four hours and he was already regretting all his life choices. Especially, ever having fallen in love with Derek Hale.





	Moonstone

**Author's Note:**

> Another entry for Sterek Week 2017 for the Mates theme. A million THANK YOU's to [Stacie](http://sheerpoetry7.tumblr.com/) for taking on beta reading this fic and giving such wonderful feedback and cheer leading every step of the way! You're amazing!! 
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

 

Stiles had been home from his freshman year of college exactly four hours and he was already regretting all his life choices. 

Especially, ever having fallen in love with Derek Hale.

Firelight danced over the party gathered in the clearing, stretching shadows and warming the already humid air. The division of the two gathered packs had grown less and less over the last few months as the treaty between them was negotiated. When Stiles had been home over winter break, the lines had only been starting to blur, but now, Isaac stood in conversation with three of the Connelly wolves, Kira was playing tag with a whole passel of their pups, Scott stood to the side with the Connelly alpha - grin on his face, and Derek...Derek was sitting with Bridgette. 

“You look like you might need this,” Jackson said from his elbow. He tore his eyes away from the smile on Derek’s face and the red-headed wolf beside him to take the cup he was being offered. The sharp scent of whiskey tickled his nose. 

“Thanks.” He took a sip, savoring the burn all the way to his belly. 

“No problem.” Jackson’s eyes tracked over the scene Stiles had just turned from. “Have you talked to him?” 

He gave the slightest shake of his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Stiles wasn’t sure when he and Jackson had gone from trading sneers to actually having each other’s backs. The summer after their senior year of high school, Jackson and Isaac had both returned to Beacon Hills, presumably having run into each other in Europe. Neither one of them had ever offered an explanation, nor liked discussing their time away. All Stiles knew was that they’d both come back the better for having gotten out. On his darkest days, he longed for the same thing. 

“You don’t know that.” Jackson said, a hint of a growl creeping into his voice. He stepped closer to Stiles, pitching his voice lower so as to not be overheard - even by supernatural ears. “There’s something between you two even if you’re both too stubborn to admit it,” Jackson whispered, eyes focused on where Stiles knew Derek was still sitting. “Also, you still smell like what’s his name.”

Stiles jolted at that. He hadn’t been with Michael for nearly a month, not that it had been serious when he had, and he couldn’t decide if he was pleased to carry the scent of someone else -  _ see, somebody wants me _ \- or wished that he gave off nothing for the wolf noses around him to detect. He opened his mouth to respond and was cut off by a booming voice.

“We’ve got some great news!” Shane Connelly, alpha of the Connelly pack, was a robust man, tall and broad shouldered with gray creeping into the russet hair of his beard. “We have decided the terms of the treaty that will ally our two packs together.” 

A chorus of cheers went up around the clearing before Shane raised his hands to signal there was more. “As a symbol of our pack’s alliance, Derek, second of the Hale-McCall pack and my Bridgette, will take on a mating bond in the old fashion in a ceremony under the light of the next full moon.”

The bottom fell out of Stiles’ stomach. His eyes snapped to Derek where he was surrounded by Connelly wolves all slapping him on the back and wishing him well in taking care of their “princess.” Stiles felt sick, plastic cup crunching in the clench of his fist. He tried to school his features - he didn’t have any right to be upset after all. Derek was his pack mate and nothing more.

The Connelly pack jumped and whooped before throwing back their heads to howl their approval at the sky. Scott was standing beside Shane, looking pleased and lifted his voice to join in the howl. As Stiles looked around the clearing every wolf present was lifting their voice except two. Jackson stood stoic in silence at his side, and Derek...Derek was staring straight back at him. 

 

*

 

The howling went on and on. Derek knew his voice should be the loudest among them and he forced himself to tear his gaze away from Stiles’s wide eyes and let a howl claw its way out of his chest. It sounded mournful, even to his own ears, and when Bridgette asked he gave half the truth - that he wished his family could be at his mating ceremony. 

She looked somewhat pacified before forgetting him entirely, swept away by several of her pack members squabbling for the honor of standing with her during the ceremony. Derek watched as the Connelly alpha handed an exquisitely carved wooden box to Deaton. It held the moonstone that would be used in the ceremony, tying he and Bridgette together for the rest of his life. He swallowed, heart suddenly pounding.  

His eyes scanned back across the fire, searching for pale, mole-dotted skin, but Stiles had disappeared. Isaac walked over to him, a calculating look in his eyes. 

“I suppose congratulations are in order?” The tall blonde wolf lifted an eyebrow. 

“That’s typically what happens when a wolf’s mating is announced,” Derek said without meeting Isaac’s eyes. 

Isaac blew out his cheeks. “Alright, then. Congratulations.” He stepped forward, pulling Derek into a hug. “Are you sure about this? I mean, Sti-”

“I’m sure.” Derek stepped back and leveled Isaac with his best glare. The truth was he was a little out of practice at the whole “scowling thing” the pack always accused him of. With the exception of the last year, he’d been content with his life in Beacon Hills. Things had been rough the last two years the pack was in high school, true, but once they learned how to manage the Nemeton and learned - finally - to work together. Life took on a more even keel. Of course, that was back when Stiles would actually talk to him. Before Stiles’s scent was mingled with someone else’s.

Derek blew out a breath. Isaac was still looking at him, eyes careful, searching. He was worried about Derek and a glance over Isaac’s shoulder told him the rest of his pack, save Scott, felt the same. He could see them all - Lydia, Kira, even Liam - glancing his way, concern barely concealed on their faces. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before the announcement. I just thought...well, I thought you would all try to talk me out of it.”

Jackson appeared at Isaac’s side, hair dyed a lighter blonde than it had been in high school, and face showing less veiled concern and more open scorn. “Just a thought, but if your whole pack thinks something is a stupid idea. It’s probably a stupid idea.”

Derek stepped forward. “Keep your voice down. This alliance is going to be good for us. Will help us keep our biggest border in check. And Scott thinks-”

Jackson didn’t back down. “Scott is a good alpha, but he doesn’t know everything and he trusts way too easily. The alliance may be a good thing, but you shouldn’t have to shack up with someone from their pack to make it happen.” Jackson was right up in his face, only inches between them. “Especially when it’s not who you really want.” 

Derek felt his face go stony, old glare unearthed. “That is no one’s business.” He turned on his heel and headed for the house. 

 

*

 

“Hello, Stiles.” Deaton said from the Hale House doorway. 

They’d finally rebuilt Derek’s childhood home the summer after his senior year. Except it wasn’t exactly as it had been. Its only constant occupant was Isaac, who managed the house and property, and the rest of the space served as something like a supernatural halfway house or shelter.They turned Beacon Hills into a beacon again. It was a waystation for any supernatural seeking help, guidance, or sanctuary. Supernatural creatures of all kinds were still drawn here to the Nemeton, some good, some not-so-good, and the pack had had to learn to adapt. 

Stiles turned from the fireplace to greet the vet. “Hey, Deaton.” The older man still served as advisor to Scott and emissary of the pack - a job that would someday belong to Stiles. He was framed now in the archway leading to the living room Stiles was standing in holding what looked like a shiny wooden jewelry box. “What’s that?” Stiles asked, nodding to the object in question. 

Deaton hesitated for a moment before walking across the room and placing the box on the mantle and opening the lid. “This is a moonstone. It will be used to create the mating bond between Derek and Bridgette.”

Stiles tried to keep the grimace from his face. “Why do they need a stone? I thought wolves just chose their mates?”

Deaton watched him for a moment before answering. “The stone was crafted under the light of the mating moon and for centuries ones just like it have been used specifically in situations such as this...Where it isn’t necessarily the wolf’s choice mate, but one of political or strategic benefit. Before the ceremony, I will spark the stone’s latent properties so that it will bridge that gap between them - giving them a full mating bond.”

“So, this is an arranged mating is what you’re saying? Like an arranged marriage?” Stiles felt cold, clammy, but kept his eyes on Deaton. 

“Yes, in a way. Of course, both Derek and Bridgette consented to the union.”

“Of course,” Stiles echoed, dully, a staggering wave of hurt building in his chest. 

“It is a smart move for the pack…” Deaton said, slowly then pulled in a breath as if to say something else. He apparently thought better of it and bid Stiles good night, walking back out the way he came. 

Stiles stared at the stone for a long time. He knew the wolves would be getting ready to go on their run. He wished he could go talk to Scott about this. Ask him why he’d ever agreed to such a plan, but the last year hadn’t just been hard on the friendship that had once existed between he and Derek, but the strain of building this treaty and of Stiles going away for school had put up walls between he and Scott that had never been there before. It hurt Stiles to see Scott so far in confidence with this Shane alpha. Although it probably was nice for Scott to have another alpha wolf to talk to. 

He reached out and picked up the moonstone. It was cool and smooth in his hand, heavier than he thought it’d be. It was the onyx of a midnight sky with tiny flecks of silver sparkling along its surface. Taking a deep breath, he resolved that if he couldn’t mend one relationship this summer he would at least try to mend things with his best friend. 

 

*

 

Derek stopped just inside the living room. Stiles was standing facing the large bay window, the long lines of his body bathed in moonlight. The house had stopped smelling like Stiles months ago and Derek ached with how his scent hung in the air again. He wondered how long it would take for it to fade this time. 

Stiles turned and met Derek’s eyes. Flashes of the last real conversation they’d had tore through his mind.

Stiles had had that same resignation in his eyes then too. 

“I guess I should say congratulations,” Stiles said, breaking their gaze to look down at whatever his hands had found to fiddle with. With a jolt, Derek realized it was the moonstone. A wild thread of desire shot through him at the sight of it in Stiles’s hands and the images it brought to mind nearly brought him to his knees - _ Stiles holding that stone in a month waiting for him at the altar of his mating ceremony. Stiles being the one he’d be binding himself to. _

He took a sharp breath in through his nose, the familiar hit of Stiles’s scent slamming into him along with the slight alteration of it. There was another man’s scent clinging to Stiles, however faint it may be, but it was enough to remind Derek where they stood. 

“Y-you shouldn’t be playing with that.” He cleared his throat and walked towards Stiles. Defiance settled hard in Stiles’s eyes and he lifted the stone between them, shaking it at Derek. 

“What? Afraid I’ll ruin your little arranged marriage? Need the poor clumsy human to smash it for you? Buy you some time so your howl doesn’t sound like you’re headed to the gallows instead of the altar?” 

Derek flinched. He’d forgotten how blunt,  _ how brutal _ , Stiles could be when he was angry. And he was definitely angry now. “It’s for the good of the pack!” Derek said, face heating up.

“Bullshit! This isn’t the 19th century! If this pack won’t ally with us without some archaic fucking ritual then fuck them. Seriously, how are you ok with this? How is Scott? Did the rest of the pack even know? Or is it just me that’s in the dark?”

Stiles’s face was red, dark blotches spreading up his neck and onto his cheeks. His hand was still clenched around that stone, long fingers gripping hard, and Derek growled. “It’s not like you’ve been around to give your opinion. Scott and I are just doing what we think is best for everyone.” 

Stiles looked like Derek had slapped him. When he spoke again his voice was cold. “You wanted me to go. Have you forgotten that? Don’t you dare pretend like I didn’t want to be part of your life.” Stiles’s words broke off in a rush of air, eyes shining. He ran a head through his hair, longer now than Derek had ever seen it. 

“Stiles…”

“Don’t.” Stiles shook his head. “Just don’t. Take your stupid stone. Have a nice life.” 

Derek’s hand automatically reached to grab the stone Stiles thrust at him, fingers landing on Stiles’s as the smooth surface of the stone settled in his palm. As soon as their skin touched, a burst of electricity fired up his arm settling into his chest and his gasp was echoed immediately by Stiles. Derek was frozen, gripping the stone and Stiles’s fingers simultaneously while that current formed a circuit - flowing up his arm and bursting to life behind his sternum before traveling back to their connected hands and over into Stiles. 

Dark honey eyes the size of dinner plates lifted to his a second before Stiles jerked his hand away, stumbling back against the moonlit window. “What the fuck was that?” Stiles was staring at the stone like it might jump out of Derek’s hand and attack him. 

Derek quickly dropped the moonstone in the still open box on the mantle and knocked the lid closed before taking a step back and dropping trembling hands to his sides. “The stone,” Derek swallowed and pressed a palm to his chest where he could still feel that warmth pulsing and pushing, spreading out through his veins with every beat of his heart. He looked up to find he’d taken a step towards Stiles. “I think it bonded us.”

Stiles’s breath wheezed out of him and he hunched in on himself. He had both hands pressed to his chest, fingers like claws gripping the material of his shirt. With a shuddering gasp, Stiles’s legs gave out and he slid to the floor, still making that awful wheezing sound. 

“Stiles!” Derek landed on his knees beside Stiles and lifted his hands toward him, but didn’t touch. “Just breathe with me, ok? C’mon,” Derek sucked a deep breathe in through his nose. It sounded like Stiles tried to mimic it, but wasn’t successful. Fear mixed with the acrid scent of panic and Derek tried again. “Look at me Stiles.” 

Stiles shook his head, his eyes clenched tight, but one hand groped blindly out and Derek grasped it, pulling it to his lips and breathing against it. “Just like this,” he took slow controlled breaths, in and out, his open mouth resting on the back of Stiles’s hand. It was agonizing minutes before Stiles was able to take a full breath and Derek’s heart clenched with each shuddering attempt. 

Slowly, Stiles was able to draw more and more air into his lungs. Derek kept a firm grip on his hand, his thumb sweeping back and forth against Stiles’s skin. Stiles pressed his free hand flat over his own heart. He looked at Derek. “Is that what this is? A mate bond?”

 

*

 

Stiles held Derek’s eyes. Derek looked guilty, of all things, before he nodded. “I think so. I just don’t know how it’s possible.”

That stung. Stiles pulled his hand from Derek’s. “Yeah, I thought both parties had to be consenting for that thing to work.” And Stiles knew there was no way in hell that Derek would ever consent to a mate bond with him. 

“Stiles, I-” Derek had gone pale and before he could continue, the front door banged open and Derek shot to his feet as Scott came running into the living room with Shane and Deaton on his heels. 

“What’s going on?” Scott asked, looking from one to the other before settling his eyes on Stiles. Shane stopped just behind Scott, and Stiles felt his anger simmer back to the surface as a look of disgust crossed the man’s face. 

“Stiles are you alright?” Deaton asked, before Stiles could open his mouth. The vet stepped forward and reached out a hand to help pull Stiles to his feet, but a growl from Derek had him retracting his hand before Stiles could grasp it. Deaton raised both hands in a placating gesture and took one step back. 

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles asked, voice still shaky. The rest of the room looked like they were wondering the same thing. 

Derek’s brow furrowed and he gave a little shake of his head. “I don’t know. Sorry, Alan.” 

Stiles looked at the hand Derek extended to him then, and decided he really didn’t want to be on the floor for this conversation. He gingerly gripped Derek’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. As soon as he felt stable, he dropped Derek’s hand and leaned back against the windowsill.

“It’s quite alright, Derek-” Deaton started.

“Enough of this! What the hell is going on here?” Shane pushed past Scott and Derek snarled, immediately planting himself in front of Stiles. 

“Let’s all just calm down,” Deaton said, voice calm, but firm. “Alpha Connelly, I believe I may know what’s happened, but I need to ask Stiles and Derek some questions first. If you’ll please take a step back, I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this.” 

 

*

Derek set a mug of hot chocolate down on the kitchen table in front of Stiles. Deaton had convinced Scott and Shane to go ahead and lead their packs on the full moon run so only the three of them remained at the house. Derek watched Stiles wrap his hands around the mug and didn’t like how there was still a tremor in Stiles’s fingers or that Stiles hadn’t met his eyes since Derek had helped him up off the floor after his panic attack. 

And wasn’t that a kick in the balls. Being mated to him had caused Stiles to have a panic attack. He had brought more pain into Stiles’s life without meaning to, and also an obviously unwanted mate bond. Derek tried to keep his expression neutral while Deaton scrolled through some ancient book on his tablet. He remembered how Stiles had whined about constantly being covered in centuries old dust while he helped Deaton digitize his library last summer before everything had gone to shit. 

_ “I could get the plague, Derek. The plague! Then what would you do?” _

_ “Get Scott to bite you.”  _

_ “...yeah, okay.” _

The ache in Derek’s chest was sharp and sudden at the memory and across the table from him, Stiles gasped. Derek looked up, eyes wide, and heat crawled up his neck as they stared at each other.  

“Stiles?’ Deaton asked, breaking the tension flowing across the table. 

“Um,” Stiles licked his lips, “I just had this sudden pain, but not like physical pain...more like...grief and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mine.” 

“Derek?” Deaton asked, eyes swiveling to him.

Derek lowered his eyes. “Sorry.”

“But how-” Stiles started before Deaton cut him off. 

“I believe Derek’s initial thought was correct. You are mate bonded to each other.” He held up a hand before Stiles could open his mouth. “No, I don’t know how it happened yet. The stone isn’t supposed to work like this.”

He heard Stiles’s heart jump. “Because both parties didn’t consent.”

“No,” Deaton said, slowly. “Because you’re human. Moonstones such as these are only supposed to work for werewolves. That’s part of the magic, and yet, somehow your spark, Stiles, brought this one to life and bound you and Derek together.”

Stiles’s mug rattled against the table, sloshing hot chocolate over the side. “I-I didn’t do that. I don’t even know  _ how _ to do that.” His face had lost what little color it had regained after his attack and Derek wanted to reach for his hand. 

“No, I don’t believe you consciously did any of it, but subconsciously? And you being able to feel when Derek is experiencing heightened emotion leaves little doubt that that is indeed what transpired.”

“But I had a freaking panic attack and Derek wasn’t affected at all. I thought a bond like this went both ways.” Stiles motioned between them, but kept his eyes on Deaton. 

“It does, but Derek has more experience in filtering out emotions that aren’t his own because of pack bonds. In a born wolf, it’s basically second nature. He is capable of feeling what you feel. He would just have to...lower his walls to do it. However, that would also give you greater access to what he is currently feeling.”

Derek cleared his throat to remind them both that he was still sitting right there.

“Is the bond permanent?” Stiles asked, without even looking Derek’s way. And Derek had never wanted to be inside Stiles’s head more than in that moment. He almost opened up the channel, that new link between them that would flood with whatever Stiles was feeling until Derek drowned in it. 

Stiles grunted and rubbed at his sternum. “Damn dude,” he shot a glare at Derek. “I know this sucks, but could you stop with the whole horrible man-pain thing so we can figure out how to fix it?”

Anger boiled up in Derek’s chest. “Is that what you think? That I’m...what? Over here suffering because you’re my mate?”

“Aren’t you?” Stiles demanded.

“Gentlemen,” Deaton cut in, “perhaps we could get back to the matter of figuring out how the stone bonded the two of you. Preferably before the packs return.”

Derek felt his nostrils flare, but tore his gaze away from Stiles to nod in Deaton’s direction. Once Stiles had done the same, Deaton continued. 

“Good. Now, please tell me exactly what led up to the bonding.”

“I came into the house and found Stiles in the living room holding the stone.”

Deaton’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you come into the house? Everyone was getting ready to depart.”

 

*

 

Stiles watched Derek shift in his seat and felt a distinctly uncomfortable feeling crawl under his skin. He was going to have to learn to shut this bond down as soon as possible. He sent up a silent thanks to whoever that Derek seemed to have his end on lockdown and wondered how potent these things Derek was feeling had to be for them to affect Stiles at all. 

All the emotions were a huge jumble in his head. The pain was easy to parse, but there was more, a warmth, a longing that he didn’t understand. They didn’t feel like his emotions, but wasn’t Derek supposed to be disgusted? Angry?

He imagined running his hands through that golden ache he could feel seeping into his chest, trying to get a handle on what Derek was projecting into him and what was just the bond itself. 

“I was looking for-” Derek’s voice cut off and Stiles didn’t need to open his eyes to know Derek was staring at him. “Stiles.” It sounded like it hurt. 

Stiles’s eyes popped open, locking with Derek’s. Had Derek felt him messing with the bond between them? 

Deaton sighed. “You were seeking Stiles out and found him holding the moonstone. Where were you standing in the living room Stiles?”

Stiles didn’t move his eyes from Derek. “Looking out the window.”

“I see.” Deaton placed his darkened tablet down on the table. “If I’m not mistaken,” he started carefully, “there has always been a bit of a bond between you? And it culminated in a falling out last summer. Is that correct?” 

Stiles swallowed. “Yes.”

“Yet, it obviously hasn’t changed the way either of you feel.”

Derek ducked his head, and Stiles felt his cheeks heat. “Yes, ok? I still have a thing for Derek and he still doesn’t have a thing for me, can we move on?”

“Stiles, that’s not-” A howl broke through Derek’s words moments before the front door burst open. Shane Connelly strode into the kitchen with Scott and Bridgette only a couple steps behind him. Shane was shifted, alpha red eyes focused on Stiles and a growl grating out of his throat.  

“We’re doing the ceremony tonight,” the strange alpha snapped. “No one is going to mess up this alliance.”

“Dude,” Stiles had had about enough of this asshole and stood to face him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You.” Shane took a step forward. “You think you can come and go as you please. You haven’t been here in months and you have no business interfering.”

“Hey,” Scott stepped forward and swiveled to face Shane shoulder to shoulder with Stiles. “Life happens, you know? Just because he hasn’t been around a lot in the past year doesn’t change the fact that he’s pack.”

Stiles felt his jaw drop and turned huge eyes to take in the firm set of Scott’s jaw. Derek’s shoulder bumped his as he took up position on Stiles’s other side sandwiching Stiles between the two wolves. 

 

*

 

“Pack or not, I won’t let him stand in the way of this union.” Shane growled and looked at Deaton. “Get the stone. I want this bond cemented tonight.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible.” Deaton said, coming to stand beside Scott. “Derek is already mated to Stiles.”

“What?” Shane roared, stepping forward as Bridgette let out a startled gasp from behind him before charging up to her father’s side.

“You mated with that human?” Bridgette sneered, golden eyes boring into him. 

Derek automatically shifted in front of Stiles, but Stiles stepped around him and lifted his hands, a faint orange glow emanating from his palms.

“Back off. Or I will back you off. Derek didn’t do any of this on purpose.” In that moment, Stiles looked every bit the emissary he would be one day and Derek had never been prouder of him. He and Scott stepped up until they were once again shoulder to shoulder with Stiles.

“If we could all just sit down,” Deaton said. “I’ll be happy to explain what I believe has happened.”

Shane growled. “If Hale’s mated to this human, we have nothing else to discuss. Bridgette call the pack. We’re going home.” Bridgette turned with a huff and one last glare at Stiles. Shane turned to follow her, but stopped just steps from the door and looked back at Scott. “This is blatant disrespect for me and my pack. We won’t forget it.” Then he was gone.

Scott sighed and Stiles lowered his hands. Outside a howl went up - Bridgette calling the Connelly pack. 

“I should go call our pack as well. You know they’ll have questions.” Scott said, turning to face them before looking to Deaton. “Mind if you hold that explanation until I get everyone gathered?”

Deaton nodded and Scott headed back out into the night. Derek’s guts twisted with worry over what Shane meant and the trouble he could bring to the pack. 

“It isn’t your fault, Derek.” Stiles’s gentle voice cut through the haze of guilt settling over his mind. Stiles held his eyes for a moment then turned to Deaton. “Can you go ahead and tell us what happened?”

“I believe you were already bonded before you ever touched the moonstone.”

Deaton’s voice was quiet, but his words may as well have been a grenade, sending shock waves through the room and leaving nothing but tattered disbelief and a high-pitched ringing in their wake. 

“W-what?” Derek managed to ask, heart in a vice. He looked to Stiles, but the human was staring at Deaton with wide eyes, jaw working like there was something he wanted to say, if he could only find the words. 

“It’s quite simple really. When you held the stone in the moonlight, Stiles, your spark activated it, and then Derek came seeking you out, both of which are steps in the actual ritual. When you both touched the stone it recognized the bond between you; the love you already had for each other and brought it to the surface, solidifying it. The stone wasn’t designed to create a bond between a wolf and a human. The bond had to already be there.” Deaton gave them a small smile, and walked towards the door. “I’ll go talk to the pack. You two,” his smile grew larger, “talk to each other.”

*

 

“He’s crazy.” Stiles’s voice came out shaky. He ran a hand through his hair and kept his eyes anywhere but on Derek. “He’s crazy.” Stiles said again because he thought it beared repeating. Derek had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t have any feelings like that whatsoever and Deaton was going to have to come up with a better explanation because there was no way this one was right. No matter how badly Stiles might want it to be. 

“I never wanted you to go.” Derek’s voice was low.

Stiles shook his head certain that the crazy had spread to Derek as well. “You said you didn’t want me, Derek. You can’t just-” 

“No, I didn’t Stiles. I said we shouldn’t be together, not that I didn’t want you.” Derek looked calm, but there was a pleading edge in his voice that Stiles refused to decipher. He had already taken two steps towards the back door when Derek’s next words stopped him cold. “And I was wrong.”

Stiles dropped his chin and let his eyes fall closed. He’d been so certain of the outcome last summer when he’d approached Derek and laid his feelings bare. So sure that Derek felt the same and utterly heartbroken when Derek had turned him away.  Stiles spun around, liquid fire pouring into his veins. “Are you kidding me? You broke my fucking heart!” Stiles yelled. “Why? Why shouldn’t we have been together?”

Derek inched towards him, hand lifting like he wanted to reach for him. Stiles took another step back and watched the hurt shift over Derek’s face. “Stiles, please…”

“No! There had to be a reason, so what was it? Huh? Am I too spazzy? Too spacey? Because I talk too much? Was I not good enough for you? Why, Derek?”

As Stiles rattled off reason after reason, Derek’s expression had morphed from pleading to cold. “Because  _ I _ am not good enough for  _ you _ . Because I thought you deserved better. Deserved more. You were going off to college Stiles! You didn’t need me holding you back.”

Stiles sputtered. “Seriously? Derek, you don’t get to decide what I deserve! You never would have held me back!”

“Is that why you smell like someone else?”

“That’s not fair. You pushed me away. If we’d been together there wouldn’t have been anyone else and you know it.” Stiles shook his head, defeated. “I wanted you.”

Turning on his heel, Stiles fled the house trying desperately to wrestle his keys out of his pocket before the burning behind his eyes overflowed. 

 

*

 

Derek stood there stunned for only a moment before charging out the door after his mate. 

_ His mate. _

Stiles was already halfway across the yard cursing the tangle of keys in his pocket and - from the salt leaching into his scent - losing his fight for composure. Derek knew there were no words, no words that would stop Stiles from walking away. And he really needed Stiles to not walk away again. Derek stopped moving just as Stiles reached for the Jeep’s door handle and did the one thing he thought might make a difference. It was also the one thing he swore he’d never do again. With a shuddering breath, he reached inside himself until he found the pulsing golden warmth that was the mate bond he shared with Stiles. 

Then he dropped his walls. He didn’t hold anything back as he poured every drop of love, fear, lust, and hope into that newly solidified channel between he and Stiles. He saw Stiles still, watched the keys fall from his hand and within seconds every emotion raging inside Stiles rolled over him in a staggering wave. The force of it nearly brought Derek to his knees. Stiles loved him. Truly. Wholly. Just as he was. There was fear and hurt and rage and longing clinging to the edges, but they had no hope of eclipsing the potent radiance of Stiles’s feelings for him. Had he really almost let this boy go?

Gasping, he closed the distance to where Stiles stood with his hand clenched around the door handle like it was the only thing tethering him to earth. “Stiles?” He watched as a shudder wracked Stiles’s body a second before he turned and threw himself into Derek’s arms. 

Derek stumbled back, arms locking Stiles against him while he buried his face against the side of Stiles’s throat. He couldn’t stop the half-sob that tore out of chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles trembled against him before letting out a shaky rush of air and pulling back enough to wipe the tears from his own face before doing the same to Derek’s. Derek turned and pressed a kiss to his palm when Stiles’s fingers stilled on his cheeks, gently cradling Derek’s chin between his hands before leaning in to press a chaste kiss against his mouth. 

“I guess you like me a little bit after all.” Stiles said as he pulled back. 

Derek pressed his forehead to Stiles’s. “Can you forgive me?” 

“You know I do.” Stiles whispered before kissing him again. 

A chorus of howls broke out from the treeline just beyond the driveway and Stiles tore his mouth from Derek’s. “Beat it, you bunch of creepers!” He shouted in the direction of the ruckus. Derek laughed and pulled Stiles’s mouth back to his. 

 

Later that year, when they married under the light of the full moon, Derek’s howl was the loudest and most joyous of all. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on the thing that [Tumbles](http://fear-frost.tumblr.com/).


End file.
